Glory in Our Defiance • Zarry

11. - Before the Storm

Nottingham Castle, May 1485

The battle is imminent. The air stinks with it, with the metallic stench of blood before it's even been spilled. Weapons are being prepared, armor polished, troops already moving to the place of the battle.

"My Prince, it is important you do not forget a single part of the plan," Duke of Somerset says, drawing even more little arrows on the piece of parchement in front of them.

Zayn's head could explode with all the strategies he's heard over the last few days. Ever since they arrived in Nottingham to be close to the battle location, he's been spending at least four hours a day with the Duke of Somerset and various other military personel. Not to mention the long hours of training outside with swords.

"I will not forget anything," Zayn sighs. "Are we done? The battle is in just a few days and I would like to get at least a bit of sleep beforehand."

"Yes, Your Grace," Duke of Somerset nods. "I have great faith in you and I know you will lead us to victory and annihilate the false prince at last."

"Thank you," Zayn says politely. He stands up, relieved to finally leave this room after hours and hours of talk about army formations and weapons.

"Oh, Your Grace," Duke of Somerset says quietly, too quietly for the confident unapologetic man. Zayn looks down at him, waiting to hear more unncessary bullshit about war. But Duke of Somerset manages to surprise him for the first time in his life.

"I, uh, I talked about this with your mother a weeks ago," Duke of Somerset starts. He gets off the chair, standing up to make the conversation look normal. "You are of age and you will be the King soon. And as any other ruler, you need heirs. I have not heard of any talks about marriage for your grace so I dared to ask your mother if she gave the blessing to an engagement between your highness and my eldest daughter. Unfortunately, your mother refused so I decided to ask you directly."

Zayn blinks a few times, his eyebrows rising up his forehead. He shakes his head a little, trying to see if this is just a bad hallucination. "What?"

"She is beautiful, Your Grace," Duke of Somerset gushes. "She has just turned sixteen and trust me that would be a wonderful wife for you. Your children would be of the highest beauty and she comes from a good family. She has a dowry and she had the best education a girl in England can get. You would be a perfect match, Your Grace."

"My deepest apologies, Duke," Zayn gives him a fake smile. "But I already have a candidate in mind for the person who will sit on the throne with me. My mother too, most likely. She would certainly want to see me married to a French princess."

Zayn's mind goes back to Harry. Their love will not be destroyed for a stupid war that's been dragging on for decades without a real end anywhere in sight. They will be together, even if Zayn has to fight every Lord and Lady in England, starting with his mother and uncle.

The angry look on Duke of Somerset's face makes Zayn reconsidering his previous answer.

"But I have no yet met your daughter," Zayn tries to save the situation. "All can change once I meet her. Would you please be so kind and bring her to court once we all return there after the battle?"

The Duke lights up like a little child getting a new toy. "I most certainly will, Your Grace."

"You will get my definite answer after that then," Zayn says.

He flashed the Duke another fake smile and leaves the room promptly before the old man has a chance to bring up another marriage proposals.

Back in his chambers, Zayn walks in to see his mother standing by a window.